§ § §
Nikolas returned from his walk frozen but for the first time since Gabby, content to feel the cold and to have nothing more to fear from it. He would soon be warm, either in Ben’s arms or, if he was particularly persuasive, in Ben’s body. He was always very persuasive where Ben’s body was concerned. He smiled to himself as he let Radulf into the cabin. It was quiet. Ben had finished chopping wood and there was a big basket of kindling by the fire. He called up to see if he was showering and wanted some company, but there was no reply. He climbed stiffly up the stairs, and the only warning he had something was badly wrong was when he saw a bloodstained shirt on the floor. He went into the bathroom and hissed, “Ben?”
Ben didn’t stop his activity, but he smiled slyly to himself. “I knew it would work. Give me a minute, and I’ll make you stay for good.” He continued sawing the kitchen knife across his wrist.
Nik suddenly shouted, “Ben!” Ben looked up startled. “Drop the knife, Ben. That’s an order!” Old habits never died. After only a second’s hesitation, Ben stopped and let the knife rest loosely on his lap. Nikolas knelt down cautiously and took it from him. He quickly pulled off his own shirt and bundled it against the deep cut on Ben’s wrist. Ben was staring at him, puzzled. He was even paler than before, stress aging his face. He glanced down at where Nikolas was pressing his wrist.
“Am I dead? You feel real, but you don’t look very pleased to see me.”
“Shut up. Can you stand?” He helped Ben to his feet and led him to the bed. He kept the pressure up on the shirt until Ben was sitting then commanded sharply, “Hold this.” Ben did, frowning down at the material. Nikolas went into the bathroom, averting his eyes from the pool of blood and tore furiously through the cabinet, pulling out some bandages and tape. He came back into the bedroom and stood staring at the gaunt figure on the bed. Suddenly, he threw the bandages in Ben’s face. Ben’s eyes opened wide with shock. “Fuck you! You stupid child! What the fuck is this?”
“You’re not…you’d gone again. I thought—”
“I went for a walk with the fucking dog!”
“I just wanted to be with you again—catch up to you before you got too far away from me. I thought…” He frowned down at his wrist. “I thought it’d be easier.”
“Well you were cutting the wrong way. Trust me, it works well enough if you cut the other way.”
“Oh.”
Nikolas knelt down beside Ben. He took the shaved head in his hands and stared at him. “You’re in shock. God forgive me, but I think you’ve been in shock since you came to me in the hospital. I’m sorry, I didn’t see it. I’ve been a little preoccupied.” He stood up then kissed Ben’s head. He sat alongside him on the bed. “Keep the pressure on.”
Ben nodded dutifully. “I am.”
Nikolas let Ben continue with this task to calm him down, to give him something concrete and easy to focus on. “You thought I’d gone again? Is that what you’re telling me? That I’d just disappeared again?”
“No, I thought you’d never come back. I thought you were still gone.” It seemed important to Ben that Nikolas got this distinction, that what he was doing, therefore, was totally rational and understandable.
“And you were going to what? Follow me into death?”
Ben bowed his head. “You’re making me feel stupid.”
“Good, because you are stupid. Ben, look at me.” He waited patiently. Ben turned his head reluctantly. “Death is the final certainty for everyone. Eventually, one of us will die, and the other will have to go on alone. No, stop that. Listen to me. Ben, look at me and listen.” Once more, he waited. “I think I’ve made a mistake with you.” He managed to smile faintly at Ben’s reaction to this. “Not like that. I’ve made mistakes by taking you for granted, assuming you knew how I felt about you when I didn’t feel inclined to tell you, not letting you into the parts of my life that are painful because I wanted to protect you. You aren’t my little brother. I don’t have to protect you to assuage my guilt for failing so badly to protect him. A very wise child told me recently I should dig out the shrapnel from my wounds—that I couldn’t heal until I did.” He closed his eyes for a moment to gather courage and then continued, “I don’t intend to die for a very long time, Benjamin. My will to live has defeated everything in this life that seems determined to kill me. I’m going to live for a very, very long time, and I intend for you to be by my side until that time is done. Do you understand what I’m saying? What I’m now asking you?”
Ben’s eyes were so wide they appeared almost black, the green just a hint of colour around the edges. Nikolas put his hand to the side of Ben’s face and stroked over his cheekbone with his thumb. “Until death parts us, yes?” Nikolas removed his hand and reached into his back pocket. Ben’s eyes followed every movement. Nikolas took out the bloodstained knife and, still staring intently at Ben, drew it across his own, already battered wrist—no hesitation, no hint this caused him pain. When he was satisfied with the blood, he gently lifted Ben’s wrist and eased off the tacky, temporary bandage. The cut, much deeper than the one he’d made on his own wrist, began to bleed again. He caught Ben’s gaze once more. “Yes?”
Ben nodded. “Yes. Until death parts us.”
They pressed their wrists together, a fitting bond between two men whose lives had been so determined and shaped by blood. They leant in and kissed, sharing mouths as their blood flowed warm between them.
PART III
CHAPTER NINETEEN
Nikolas knew they both turned heads that night as they entered Alan Lund’s restaurant. Who would not look up at two such scarred, hard men? He was aware of the gaunt certainty of pain etched on his features. He felt as if he’d been in a war—bruises staining his skin yellow and green, and stitches down one side of his shaved, blond head. He was still limping slightly.
By his side, Ben was wide-eyed and thin, his clothes hanging loose, hair hacked off. It was like escorting a camp survivor—Nikolas acting as Ben’s jailer, walking close, hand possessively on one arm. But no prisoner was shown the care Nikolas gave Ben as they sat—brushing the back of Ben’s neck lovingly, entwining their fingers on the table.
As their hands met across the chequered cloth, matching bandages were revealed, these, for a moment, reminding Nikolas of handcuffs joining them. Yet, they linked them in a far more private bond than steel ever could.
Ben ordered steak and wolfed it as if starved. They both drank only water. All the time, if Ben’s eyes weren’t scanning the room as if for potential danger, they were fixed upon Nikolas with total concentration. Ben didn’t smile much, but when he did, they were intensely private smiles for Nikolas alone.
When they left, Radulf was waiting for them. He’d not been restrained but had sat patiently in the snow. He didn’t see them come out, but he sensed them and turned to walk at Nikolas’s side, pressed in close. Guard, guide, and charge.
They climbed into their off-roader, which was now pale with fallen snow. Ben drove, while Nikolas watched the flakes coming at them through the dark like small missiles until they dissipated harmlessly on the glass. They arrived at a thatched house by the beach with a garden that had clearly been well tended before the snow came.
It was Christmas Eve.
§ § §
Ben pulled the car up outside Ingrid’s house. Neither of them had been there since he’d left that last morning, before he’d found Nikolas near death in the snow. She’d seen the toll Nikolas’s abduction had taken on Ben while he’d been with her. Had she known the true extent of his shock and what had happened in the aftermath, she would’ve been horrified. Neither of them had any intention of sharing those events with anyone, however. Nikolas put his hand on Ben’s thigh, a habit of now touching him whenever he could, also a direct result of events in a bathroom a few nights previous. “Are you ready?”
Ben closed his eyes for a moment. “Do we have to do this?”
“Is it the right thing to do?”
Ben nodded.
“Then it’s what we’ll do. Come, I’ll revert to the charming, urbane diplomat you first met, and all will be well. All you’re required to do is make sure you eat, Benjamin. And did we ever think I’d one day have to say that to you?”
Ben smiled, and it was such a rare thing for Nikolas to see these days he leant in and kissed him, despite the fact they were sitting outside someone’s house. The kiss began to deepen which pleased him. Sex had been fraught recently. It was hard to enjoy themselves with so many physical and emotional wounds. Eventually, he eased them apart and cupped Ben’s face. “Carry the presents. Let’s keep the illusion in place you’re subservient to me and do my every bidding.”
Ben actually laughed and quickly kissed him on the scar on his nose. He did as requested and gathered the armful of presents Nikolas had insisted they buy and wrap, and then they went to Ingrid’s to celebrate Christmas with the friends who’d helped save Nikolas’s life and, by extension, Ben’s.
Once he’d been found and Kate had consequently lost her lodgings courtesy of staying with the psychotic librarian who’d tried to kill him, Nikolas had moved Kate to a hotel. Similarly, he’d insisted Squeezy stay at least until Boxing Day and had booked a suite for him at Kate’s hotel. Then he’d flown Kate’s parents over to Denmark, and further to Aeroe, so they could enjoy a traditional white Christmas with their only child.
It was therefore a gathering of old and new at Ingrid’s for Christmas Eve and the season of goodwill. Ben was so fragile that Nikolas had debated long and hard about creating and insisting on this Christmas for him. But, in the end, he’d decided Ben just needed time and normality, and, given those, he would heal himself.
Everyone greeted Radulf first. Ben had been afraid the number of people would alarm him, given he now relied on sound rather than sight to navigate his way through life, but he seemed to be in his element. Nikolas had allowed him to bring his blanket, a concession Nikolas wouldn’t normally have made, but Radulf pretty much had an open ticket to anything he wanted with Nikolas these days. He dragged the smelly rag toward the fire where he could feel the heat and listen to the voices, and settled down, content to wait for sausages to be produced.
Nikolas was as good as his word and circulated and talked and charmed like the Nikolas of old. This took some of the attention off Ben; he was able to stand with Squeezy and talk about old times, something anyone in the army could do only too well. The only one whose attention was wholly on Ben, despite his party front, was Nikolas, and Ben found himself constantly plied with food and non-alcoholic drink until he had to wait until Squeezy went to the bathroom to murmur privately, with some exasperation, “I’m okay, okay?”
“I know you are, Benjamin.” Nikolas gave him a small, amused look through lowered lashes. “Am I still real though?”
“For God’s sake, Nik!” His embarrassed outrage couldn’t mask the deep, underlying adoration. He leant closer. “This Nikolas is too fucking annoying to be dream-Nikolas—he was much nicer!”
Nikolas chuckled. “I can do nice. And don’t swear at me, Benjamin.”
Ben stepped a little closer and brushed his lips against Nikolas’s ear. “If it wasn’t for all these people, I would say that word in another context—right here, right now.”
They stared at each other for a while, the rest of the room entirely forgotten, then Nikolas shook himself slightly and moved back toward the group.
§ § §
“Fuck me, it’s true, isn’t it? That look was about fucking sex, right? Bloody hell, but it’s not fair.”
Ben shook his head despairingly at Squeezy’s outrage. Squeezy was watching Nikolas closely. “He’s not really a fucking banker or a art dealer, is he?” Ben shook his head. “He’s one of us in some fucking way I can’t put my finger on…but I’d like to.” Ben punched Squeezy’s arm. “Oh, come on! There’s enough of him to go around, Diesel. No? Fuck me. It’ll be the fucking hand again tonight then. So, he all healed and shit?”
Ben wobbled his hand. “I think he still gets headaches from the skull fracture, and it hurts when he breathes too hard—where she stabbed at his kidney.”
“Breathes too hard? Oh, fuck me…don’t say it…! No fucking breathing too hard where I am, mate, that’s for fucking sure.” Squeezy stared gloomily into his glass. “I should’ve gone fucking gay years ago. All that wasted opportunity in all those fucking showers. So…is it true what Katie was saying…about that bitch’s throat?”
Ben frowned and turned to him, giving him proper attention for once. “What about her throat?”
“That it wasn’t Daddybark who did most of the fucking damage. That they found human bite marks.” He grabbed his throat and widened his eyes theatrically.
“Merry Christmas to you, too, you bastard. No, that’s not true.”
Nikolas came over to join them. He eyed Squeezy speculatively. “I think you should have your Christmas present now.” Squeezy’s eyes widened hopefully, but Ben elbowed him. He knew very well what Squeezy was hoping his present might be. Even more annoying, he knew Nikolas found Squeezy’s new gay obsession extremely amusing and had even suggested they include him in a threesome one night. Fortunately for Nikolas, Ben knew he was only joking. Nikolas gave Ben a private quirk of his lips at this shared joke between them and nodded toward the patio doors. “Outside?”
Parked in Ingrid’s back garden was the state-of-the-art snowmobile Nikolas had bought for Squeezy. As Nikolas had told Ben, it seemed a very small gesture to thank him for a life. They all eyed it together, Squeezy slightly speechless. “Perhaps don’t set fire to this one?”
“No, fucking right you are. It’ll…I’ll maybe take it to Scotland—if I ever go…Very handy. Ta.”
Ben sighed. “Just tell him. I can’t stand the suspense.”
Nikolas laughed and handed Squeezy an envelope. “We’ve also bought the lodge we’re currently staying in from the lecherous doctor who owned it. As I’ve made you an honorary Dane, you must have a retreat on Aeroe. Here, it’s yours as well. You don’t have to take the machine to Scotland to enjoy it.” At Squeezy’s expression, he added, “Of course, we’d always welcome an invitation to join you next Christmas. Although…there’s only one bed…”
Squeezy was too overcome to hear this or take immediate advantage of its implication. He swallowed. Ben began to shiver, and Nikolas immediately urged, “Inside. You can swear some thanks at us then.”
They’d brought presents for Kate and her parents. Nikolas had left Ingrid’s present to Ben, and he’d remembered something she’d once confessed to him; she’d like to see London again and the friends she’d made there. It was an easy present, therefore; two weeks in Claridge’s hotel in the late spring with shows and trips and first class travel everywhere.
§ § §
By the time midnight had passed, Nikolas was very tired. The effort to be normal after such abnormal events had taken it out of him. Ben drove the three of them home, the sound of distant church bells reminding them of the arrival of Christmas Day. They secured the lodge, something they did methodically now every night, and went up to bed. Radulf was happy to stretch out on the sofa and enjoy the light he could see from the fire. They showered together. Nikolas needed help peeling off some of his bandaging and then replacing it, and he knew Ben just liked having him there alongside him. Ben washed Nikolas’s hair for him, carefully avoiding the stitches in his shaved, golden hair. “You’ll have to grow this out. Cover this scar up.”
“Maybe I should grow a beard. Cover the rest, too.”
“Maybe not.”
Nikolas stepped out and took two towels off the rack, passing one to Ben. “You look better.”
“I’m just fatter. I can’t believe you made us go out and eat steak before a Christmas party.”
“And I’ll continue to do so until your fatuous belief you’re stronger than me has at least some validity. But you are looking better.”
Ben climbed into bed and turned on his side,
waiting for Nikolas to join him. “It seems like that was the dream now. I can’t believe I actually—” Nikolas’s fingers were on his lips, preventing him saying more about that terrible event.
He smirked. “So, it’s Christmas.”
“You don’t like Christmas, and you insisted we wouldn’t buy each other presents. Please don’t tell me you’ve bought me something anyway.” Nikolas grinned at the slight sound of panic in Ben’s voice. Things were returning to normal.
“All right, I won’t.” He pulled Ben closer, studying where he intended to kiss, building the anticipation for both of them, and then he brushed his lips over Ben’s, pulled his bottom one gently with his teeth, licking it before letting go and murmuring into the warm, eager mouth, “Do you remember the house at Horse Tor?”
Ben pulled away, sharply. “Oh, fuck, don’t tell me you’ve bought me the house!”
Nikolas frowned. “I shall curtail your friendship with Squeezy, I think. He’s a bad influence. I can’t tell you I’ve bought it, for it wasn’t for sale.”
Conscious Decisions of the Heart Page 18